Pope's message finds traction

In the season finale of HBO's "The Newsroom," fictional anchor Will McAvoy is asked if he calls himself a Republican so he can claim credibility when criticizing the conservatives.

"No, I call myself a Republican because I am one," he responds. "I believe in market solutions and I believe in common-sense realities. ... The problem is, now I have to be homophobic. I have to count the number of times people go to church. I have to deny facts and think scientific research is a long con. I have to think poor people are getting a sweet ride. And I have to have such a stunning inferiority complex that I fear education and intellect in the 21st century."

For years, Republicans who shun the extremes of their party have shared the same frustration as Catholics disillusioned with the extremes of their church. When did Catholicism become consumed with condemnation? Why the emphasis on sex? What happened to the Gospel teachings of love, humility and faith?

Just a year ago in this space, I was bemoaning the Vatican's inexplicable crackdown on American nuns for spending too much effort ministering to the poor and not enough time denouncing the trifecta of abortion, gays and contraception. Many Catholics were similarly dismayed by the dogmatic hard line adopted by Benedict XVI, who favored a smaller, "pure" church over a larger, inclusive one.

So it's little wonder that scores of the faithful are exhilarated by the remarks of Pope Francis, who granted a remarkable interview with a Jesuit journal whose content is approved by the Vatican. Six months into his papacy, the pontiff said the church has become obsessed with "small-minded rules" and that he deliberately hasn't talked about hot-button issues such as abortion.

"It is not necessary to talk about these issues all the time," Pope Francis said. "The dogmatic and moral teachings of the church are not all equivalent. The church's pastoral ministry cannot be obsessed with the transmission of a disjointed multitude of doctrines to be imposed insistently."

While Pope Francis changed no rules, there was a clear shift in style compared with a predecessor whose rigid views alienated progressive Catholics. And even though Pope Francis quickly capitulated to the church's conservative wing by issuing a strong anti-abortion message on Friday, he managed nonetheless to give hope to those wishing for reform.

"This is just miraculous," said Annette Rafferty, a former nun and director of Abby's House. "I think he's tremendous. He's more than a breath of fresh air. He's thrown open a window. He's talking about the poor. He's a man willing to engage in conversation that can eventually lead to change."

Conversely, both the church's conservative wing and papal critics argue that the Pope has said nothing extraordinary — he didn't condone gay acts, for example, and hasn't expressed interest in lifting the ban on married priests. But I can't recall any pope in recent memory so willing to offer rebukes — however gentle — to past papacies.

"We have to find a new balance," the pope continued, "otherwise even the moral edifice of the church is likely to fall like a house of cards, losing the freshness and fragrance of the gospel."

In other words: Enough, already with the moralizing and sexual obsession, or we're history.

No one expects a Catholic pope to march in a gay pride parade or distribute condoms in the schools. But words and rhetoric are important in an institution that relies so heavily on symbolism and message.

And this pope's message is long overdue. Welcome to everyone who calls themselves a Catholic.